


someone buy me roses// someone burned the church

by locrianrose



Series: and as these days watch over time [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-26 18:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locrianrose/pseuds/locrianrose
Summary: Robin didn't think that she'd survive this, but if she did manage to come back after it all— she would go with him.(Written for the Trash Man's birthday)
Relationships: Gangrel/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Series: and as these days watch over time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2217807
Kudos: 3





	someone buy me roses// someone burned the church

Emmeryn’s appearance, blessing as it was, had complicated their journey. Emmeryn tired easily, and despite how hardy she had seemed to be in combat, their long days of walking wore on her. Chrom and Lissa were with her now, and Robin knew that if they were busy with Emmeryn, she would be alone. 

Robin wasn’t keen to think about their slow march to her chosen death, so for now, she would drink to her sorrows. She fumbled in her pack, looking for the bottle Anna had offered to her with a wink, promising that it would drown her sorrows— for the right price.

Robin had told Frederick that she would be working on their plans and then resting, but truthfully, Robin didn’t know how much more she could try to prepare. She’d done what she could. She had written letters for the Shepherds to find after it all ended, and had paid Anna a sizable sum to make sure they’d be delivered. 

She was going to be the one who would kill Grima, but for now, she would drink and take this time for herself. 

Robin worked the bottle open, grimacing as she took a swallow. Whatever Anna had sold her tasted awful, but after she had managed to down around a cup's worth, the worst of her anxieties had been muted slightly, and by the second cup, she found that the world wasn’t nearly as miserable as she was before. 

Robin shrugged off her coat. She felt warmer now, and as she let it settle on her bedroll, she spotted a shriveled flower that slipped from her pocket, her mind turning to another new recruit to their army. 

She had fully expected Chrom to kill Gangrel when they’d found him again among their enemies, but Chrom had chosen not to. That, among so many other things, had shown her how much Chrom had changed.

Gangrel, however, seemed to Robin to largely be the same man. True, he was more complex than she’d expected from the chaotic force he’d seemed to be when they’d faced him years before, but he seemed to be, at his core, the same person he had been then, with the same flaws and thoughts about the order of the world, but a changed opinion of his place in it.

He had fixed himself to her side like a tick on a dog, and Robin had heard more than a few of his opinions of what he deserved from any of them— from Chrom, from the pirates he’d served, and from any of the members of their army he thought he could provoke into harming him. He expected the same treatment from them that he’d given to his soldiers and seemed to think that he wholeheartedly deserved it.

He’d thrown himself on a blade for Emmeryn in the last skirmish they’d had with the Risen. Robin had seen it, Chrom had seen it. The act had done something to reassure Frederick that he didn’t intend to turn on them immediately, and iIt had shown Robin that while he might still believe many of the things he had before, he was determined to help them now. 

Robin took another swallow, picking up the flower and tucking it behind her ear. Grasping the bottle firmly, she moved out of her tent, carefully picking her way to where she expected to find him. 

The flowers had only been the latest in his attempts to flatter her into joining him after the war in Plegia to rebuild what he could. For a man who seemed to yearn for death, he did seem to want to do what he could to continue to help the country he’d helped to destroy through his aggressive leadership.

Making her way across the camp, Robin did what she could to dodge her companions until she reached the half assembled tent she was at least half positive hid Gangrel. 

Robin batted at the tent flap. Her hand missed the heavy canvas on her first attempt, so she stepped forward, succeeding in her second attempt at pulling it back.

Gangrel blinked up at her as she did, the late afternoon sunlight at her back shining into his eyes. 

“Why do you care so much?” Robin asked. “Insisting on recruiting me. Saying you want to go back to Plegia.” 

Gangrel peered at her. 

“How drunk are you? Most importantly, are you going to share?” He asked. 

Robin thought for a moment, then thrust the bottle towards him. Gangrel took it from her, taking a swig without question. 

“I’ve had far better.” He mused. “I suppose this will do.”

Robin ducked her head and entered the tent, settling herself heavily down beside him. The flap closed behind her, leaving them both in the dim light that spilled in despite it. 

“Give it.” Robin said, reaching for the bottle. 

“Not yet.” Gangrel said, swallowing another gulp before passing it back to her, chuckling to himself. “It’s been far too long since I’ve been rightfully drunk— I had the finest of wines, things that you could never imagine, and now I drink this swill.” 

“Don’t tell Anna.” Robin muttered, swallowing. “I spent money on this.”

“Army funds?” Gangrel looked delighted. “Spending Chrom’s money for your own pleasure? I don’t know if I would have seen you doing such a thing. I thought you could be a good moral guide, but this? Appropriating military funds?”

Robin felt her jaw clench. 

“I have my own pay.” She said. “I do what I want with it.”

“You really ought to spend it getting better stuff.”

“Anna said,” Robin spoke slowly, “that it would get me drunk.”

“And why does our fine tactician need so desperately to be drunk?” Gangrel asked.

Robin exhaled. 

“I’m asking the questions.”

“You can’t expect me to answer questions without a cost. Why not a trade?”

“I shared my drink.” Robin said. “You owe me.”

“Fine, fine.” Gangrel acquiesced. “I’ll allow you one for free, but after that—” He grinned somewhat disconcertingly. “You wanted to know why I want to go back to Plegia?”

Robin nodded. 

“I lived and suffered there.” Gangrel said. “I saw how that Ylissian fool shat on our country and what he did to tear it apart. I might have been as stupid as him, but I’m alive. You know what I said about how I’d use your help— with someone like you at my side, I doubt we’d fail to shape it back up. Chrom seems like he’d be just fine on his own now. I doubt that he’d need you now that he’s learned to stop throwing himself into everything he encounters.”

Chrom would likely need to find ways to do things alone, going forward. Olivia would be at his side, and Robin had noticed how he’d needed to consult her less as he’d grown. He would be fine without her.

Robin sniffed, then took a swallow before offering the bottle to Gangrel again. 

“I… hope he’ll be fine.” Robin said, staring at the wall of the tent. 

“Thinking of taking my offer?” He asked after drinking, passing the bottle back to her. 

“Did you believe what the Grimleal taught?” Robin asked. 

“I only said I’d give you one for free.” Gangrel nudged her with a wink. “You’re going to have to answer one for me if you want the truth.”

“Fine.” Robin sighed, swaying slightly. “Ask.”

“Why is it that you still have this?” Gangrel spoke with a grin, reaching a hand up to pluck the flower she had tucked behind her ear before she’d gone to find him. “Keeping it to think of me?” 

Robin snorted, reaching for his hand to try to pluck it back. She’d consumed more of whatever they were drinking than he had, and she didn’t doubt that it was the reason for his far more deft hands as he pulled it away from her. 

“I need my answer.” He insisted. “If you want it back, you ought to tell me.”

“I don’t know.” Robin said, trying to grab it again, ignoring how reaching for it pushed her too close to Gangrel, pressed up against him in what some part of her mind was screaming had to be a foolish way.

The world was fucked, and the only way to fix it was for her to die. Whatever Gangrel had been willing to do before to any of them, he didn’t seem so inclined now. Whatever might happen here wouldn’t kill her, and she’d be gone soon enough anyway. 

Gangrel relented, and Robin snatched the flower back, tucking it behind her ear again and retreating back to her own space. She studied him as she did, eyeing the way something close to a smile played across his lips. 

“Are you sure you don’t know?” He questioned. “I think you could likely find a way to justify your actions. It’s only natural, after all. A virile man— such as myself— searching for a tactician and wife to keep him in check.“

Robin coughed to cover her laugh, staring at him in disbelief. “What? You only said—”

“Was it not obvious?” Gangrel stated, slipping the bottle from her hand to finish off what remained. “I thought it would be clear. After all, there were flowers!”

Robin touched the dried flower in her hair, and then looked to Gangrel. Despite his declarations of his goals to help Plegia now, Robin doubted that he’d commit to using peaceful means. 

But she would likely be dead soon. She’d lied to Chrom, promising him that she didn’t intend to leave and sacrifice herself to kill Grima. Naga had told them that she might survive or return, but that was no promise, but if she did— 

If she did come back, would it truly be so awful to try to help the country she was from? Keeping Gangrel in check would be an effort in and of itself, but she would easily admit that Gangrel had managed quite the feat in what he’d done there. If she truly could help, then perhaps if she returned, that would be a worthy cause. 

Robin continued to stare at Gangrel, momentarily somber. The other side of his offer was perhaps less expected, but now— inebriated as she was— she supposed that if she survived, she could make this work. 

She had friends among the Shepherds, true, but none of them that she’d connected with romantically. Robin had assumed that the reason there was no future child for her was because of what she’d done in Lucina’s world and what she’d become. It was lonely now, and sitting here with Gangrel, she supposed that a future with him would be better than one alone. Eccentric as he was, he wasn’t an awful companion, but she would need to ask her next question. There were things that she would need to know now, and as tipsy as she was rapidly realizing she was, she would still ask them.

“It’s my turn to ask a question.” Robin said. “Do you believe what the Grimleal preach?”

“Hah, those old fools? I was Grimleal in name. I lived there, I knew what they taught.”

“So you and Aversa used that to rally the people?”

“Oh, I think she used me!” Gangrel barked, leaning slightly towards her. “Religion didn’t factor in— and no matter what they did, we kept them in their places.”

“Do they believe it there?” Robin pushed. 

“That’s far too many questions— you owe me what, three with that? But some do, some don’t.”

“Fine.” Robin nodded and pressed a hand to her cheek, feeling the warmth there. “You go next.”

“Chin up, my dear. To ask like this is never what I would have done before.” Gangrel mused. “Something I’m unused to, but for my possible loyal tactician I would ask anything.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” Robin remarked, reaching her hand over to Gangrel, feeling his cheek. “Not any warmer than normal.”

“Let me show you what I have to offer you.” Gangrel suggested, draping an arm over her shoulders. “It’s been a long time since I’ve wet my whistle, and I haven’t seen you getting any intimate comfort. I’ll treat you like no other man would, and then! I won’t stop, even when you’re old and wizened.”

Robin tilted her head, waiting to see if he was joking, but of course, he seemed completely serious and gave no indication of a joke.

“After we kill Grima.” She finally said, poking a finger into his chest. “I’ll go with you to Plegia.”

“Hah!” Gangrel let out a cackle, pulling her close. “This news! I never expected to find a wife and a tactician here after everything that happened. Plegia will be united, at our hands, and soon— soon, we’ll find a way to help them all. What a feast we’ll have that day! For this, I’ll gladly live!” 

“We kill Grima first.” Robin warned, struggling to force her face into what she assumed was a sten expression. “Then we worry about that.” 

“Oh, I’ve waited this long, but with you— with you, we’ll be unstoppable!” Gangrel exclaimed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “With you at my side, after all this— the Grimleal will beg to serve me! I’ll be better than I was before, I swear that to you!”

“I plan to hold you to that— and that means no more needling Chrom and the others if you want them to lash out.” Robin said, pointedly placing her hand on his leg. The warmth that had began to spread to other places in her body, and she shifted onto her knees. “That you said — no, you only implied— that you were asking if I wanted to do something else while we were here.”

Gangrel let out yet another cackle. 

“Oh ho ho! Whatever you desire, whatever you feel—”

Robin cut him off as she pressed him down onto his bedroll, shifting on top of him and pressing her mouth onto his. Gangrel responded greedily and in kind, grinding into her the best that he could with her pinning him down. 

Robin broke away after a moment, breathing heavily. 

“You’re going to need to be quiet.” She began firmly. “If Frederick hears this—” 

Gangrel interrupted her this time, capturing her lips again, hands freeing her top from where it was tucked into her pants and sliding up her back, nails digging in as he did. 

Robin stifled a moan against Gangrel as he pressed against her again, shifting to lay fully on him, attempting to find her way to his skin with her hands, fumbling with his clothes. 

“Oh, I can help with that.” Gangrel offered, breaking his mouth away before moving his hands to pry off his belt. 

Robin lifted herself slightly, reaching a hand to work off her own pants as Gangrel disrobed under her. Whatever came after this, in this moment, she wanted this. Thoughts of her upcoming confrontation with Grima were pushed from her mind as she lowered herself carefully onto Gangrel once his clothes were out of the way, focusing entirely on the sensations and the need to keep quiet. Robin tried to find a rhythm, struggling to retain her coordination through the combination of alcohol and inexperience.

“Let me—” He began, gesturing at her to lift herself off. “Allow me— to do this— for  _ my  _ tactician.” 

As Robin slid off, he shifted, pushing her down and onto his bedroll. She stifled an inadvertent laugh as he lifted her legs, realizing what he intended to do. Robin clamped one hand over her mouth to shush it, and as Gangrel worked his way inside her she rapidly realised that whatever she’d been doing before, this was— more. 

Robin could feel something building, but even as she neared the edge, the flap of the tent slipped open again.

“You two are idiots.” Came Tharja’s dry commentary. “Be glad I was the first one who heard. Frederick’s looking for you, Robin.”

Gangrel thrust once more. 

“Tharja?” Robin wheezed. “Could you— close that? Tell him I’ll find him later.”

Tharja watched them for a little too long before nodding. “Fine. I’ll head them off— for you, Robin. You’d better finish soon.”

“Thank you!” Robin gestured at Tharja. “Shut it— please!” 

The tent finally darkened again, and Gangrel resumed at full force, rocking into her. Robin clamped her hand back over her mouth, pressing against him as he carried her over the edge. He continued to rut into her for a moment longer, unable to contain a cackle as Robin felt something— then he was sliding out of her, collapsing at her side. 

Robin let her hand drift down to feel the wetness Gangrel had left behind, lifting it back to eye it in the dim light. He’d finished inside of her, and she supposed that if she’d been opposed she would have needed to tell him beforehand. If she lived— if— she’d talk to Tharja, but if not— 

Gangrel curled into her side, pressing his face against her. 

“You need to stay a little longer.” He muttered. “ _ I _ need you here now. I never thought I’d love _ you _ . I’ll be a new man, I swear.”

Robin couldn’t help but feel guilty through the buzz. Gangrel was truly pathetic, and she’d taken advantage of that in her place of weakness. If she found her way back, she would find him, and she’d keep her promise.

For now through, she’d stay for a few more minutes. Frederick would have to wait, and Tharja would keep him busy. It was— nice. It felt good to have him at her side, and as he slipped his arm under her shirt again, carefully trailing his nails across her chest, Robin wished that she could stay. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm always interested in narratives where women enter relationships for somewhat non-romantic reasons (safely, companionship) and then those working out or becoming different with time. I definitely feel that the dynamic here isn't healthy, but i really feel that at the point in the game you get the spot pass characters robin isn't going to be in a good place, and that really lends itself to the dynamic i tried to show here. i have full plans for a sequel where things progress and dynamics shift, but i need to finish some other wips first. 
> 
> i used the adult (or oldest) robin design when i played the game, and i like to imagine a robin who looks a bit more like her father, but i try to leave what i describe of her pyswical appearance open so the reader can sub their robin in.
> 
> title taken from my chemical romance's vampires will never hurt you


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